


Rambles in the Garden

by Karartegirl99



Category: Flatland - Edwin A. Abbott
Genre: F/F, Mistaken Identity, Original Character(s), Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:22:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22696264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karartegirl99/pseuds/Karartegirl99
Summary: Minerva meets a stranger in the garden, falls in love, and learns sight recognition. Originally posted on my fanfiction.net account.
Kudos: 8





	Rambles in the Garden

Minerva was born into nobility, and, like all lines born into nobility, her dating pool was rather shallow. That isn't to say that there wasn't a wide selection of circles to marry, for there was. It was just that all of her suitors were pompous, bigoted, and, well, shallow. Soon she lost interest, and only met with them to keep up appearances. She had even begun to confuse their names, as they were all similar in manner and as she disliked them all equally.

Even more frustrating was the fact that everyone around her had mastered sight recognition, while she and the other women were fumbling around and guessing. It didn't help that most of the circles frowned upon feeling, so to avoid injuring herself she tended to stay in one place. Her family didn't like this, and one day her mother made her go outside for some "fresh air."

She wandered through the gardens, admiring the small but measurable points that were two-dimensional flowers. The air held a subtle smell of a lost time when flora covered the plane in scattered polka dots. Minerva rested, and the smell carried her to sleep.

A soft, deep voice woke her. "Hello, ma'am. Lovely day, isn't it?"

"Quite." Minerva blinked. "I'm Minerva. To whom do I owe the pleasure of meeting?"

"I'm Carson."

"Pleasure to meet you, sir."

Carson paused. "Minerva? As in Stanley's daughter?"

"Yes. You know my father?"

"He is a family friend. He speaks of you often."

"Kindly, I hope." She yawned.

"Indeed. Is it true that you are attempting to learn sight recognition?"

"You know about that?"

"Oh please don't worry. I think it's good that you're educating yourself. It's stupid that women aren't allowed in schools."

"Could you teach me sight recognition, then?"

Carson agreed, and they went over the theory of it. When it was time to part, Minerva accidently said "I love you," but neither of them seemed to realize it.

Carson returned the next day, and as they talked, the formality of the previous encounter seemed to melt away. This time, when Minerva said, "I love you," Carson replied with, "I love you, too."

When they met for a third time they greeted each other warmly, and they talked less of sight recognition than of weather and music and politics. This time, before she had a chance to say "I love you," Carson told her, "I'll love you to the ends of the plane."

The next day was a misty one, and Minerva sat waiting in the garden, practicing making out the shapes of the trees and the bushes. Carson arrived, and she was about to say hello when she noticed something. "Carson?"

"What is it, dear?"

"I've never... felt you before."

Carson's voice softened. "Alright. You can feel me."

Minerva moved forward carefully. Up until this point she would have expected to feel a curved edge, but the fog had planted doubt in her mind that proved to be true. "You're a woman?"

"You thought I was - ?" Carson was mortified. "Oh my god, I thought you knew!"

"I'm sorry but your voice is just so masculine!" Minerva panicked, just as embarrassed.

"I should have made it clearer – "

"I shouldn't have assumed – "

"I don't even _walk_ like a woman – "

"There were just so many flowers – "

After a solid minute of frantic apologizing, they fell silent. "I still love you," Carson whispered. "To the ends of the plane. And I understand if you're not alright with that."

Minerva hesitated. She moved forward and brushed against her lovingly. "I'm not that shallow."


End file.
